


play me down my lover like all the girls and boys in school

by anirondack



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: (mild exhibitionism), Bathroom Sex, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, note passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7841398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anirondack/pseuds/anirondack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>What are you doing?</i><br/>Henry looks over at Gansey in something resembling disbelief and scratches something down on the note, then passes it back.<br/><i>I’m wooing you. haven’t you ever seen a teen romance movie?</i><br/>Gansey covers his mouth with his hand and narrowly avoids chuckling out loud.<br/><i>It takes more than kicking me under the table to get me going I’m afraid.</i><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	play me down my lover like all the girls and boys in school

**Author's Note:**

> there are 13 fics in the henry/gansey tag and 2 are by me and that's sad so here's more!
> 
> title yanked from girls and boys in school by neon trees

With or without Latin, with or without Ronan, Aglionby is rather dull sometimes.

Attending fourth period government class is something of a joke for Gansey, having lived in the government’s back pocket for much of his life. Many people in his class are the sons of investment bankers or minor celebrities or company CEOs and were never inundated with the intricacies of state and local government from childhood, but Gansey was, and along with two or three other politician’s sons, he sits in the back, uninterested, as their teacher goes over checks and balances.

Henry is in his government class, which is nice, but he has a habit of paying attention to lectures, which either Gansey or the bits of Ronan that had intertwined themselves within Gansey find aggravating when Gansey himself is bored. Henry attributes it to either his need to keep his grades up or his need to appear the studious, genius transplant student the administration expects him to be, depending on how bitter he’s feeling at the time. Still, they sit together now at the back table, all the way to the right. It’s nice to have Henry around. He helps Gansey feels calm, especially when he feels like he’s about to itch out of his skin at being in one place and time instead of spread out over multitudes of years and miles and minds.

Henry jots down a note - it says _⅔ majority_ but Gansey isn’t sure what that majority is referring to - and then reaches his foot over and nudges Gansey with it. Gansey sits up a little straighter and glances over, but Henry is still looking straight ahead. Gansey watches him curiously for a moment, then figures it must have been an accident and goes back to looking at the board.

Henry does it again, though, letting his foot rest on the top of Gansey’s for long enough that Gansey knows that it was clearly intentional. Gansey turns to look at him this time, and Henry has the tiniest, barely-there smirk on his face, but he’s writing down something about veto powers and not acknowledging Gansey at all. Gansey frowns a little and turns back to the teacher again and doesn’t look down until a slip of paper is slid in front of him.

_Is this working? circle yes or no._

Gansey gives Henry a confused look, but Henry just nods at the paper, so Gansey scribbles a response and slides it back.

_What are you doing?_

Henry looks over at Gansey in something resembling disbelief and scratches something down, then passes it back.

_I’m wooing you. haven’t you ever seen a teen romance movie?_

Gansey covers his mouth with his hand and narrowly avoids chuckling out loud.

_It takes more than kicking me under the table to get me going I’m afraid._

He circles _no_ , more to make Henry pout than anything else, and passes it back. Henry reads the note and gives Gansey a frankly adorable frown, then scrambles to copy down something the teacher just said while he was not so subtly watching Gansey write. He adds something to the note and folds it up, then waits until the teacher has turned her back to the class to write something on the board before he passes it back to Gansey.

_what about this?_

No sooner has Gansey finished reading the note than he feels a hand slide over to rest on his thigh. He freezes and glances at Henry again, but Henry is writing and not looking at him. He looks down, and Henry’s hand is still, fingertips digging into Gansey’s uniform pants lightly. Gansey falters and swallows, then props his elbows on the desk, folding and unfolding the note. He looks at the teacher and tries to take in the things she’s writing, but then Henry’s hand starts moving again, slipping toward the inside of Gansey’s thigh and squeezing again. Gansey’s pulse trips a little and he breathes out slowly through his nose, but he doesn’t look at Henry again and Henry doesn’t look at him either.

Their teacher turns around and talks for a bit, but Henry doesn’t move his hand and she doesn’t notice. Henry’s thumb strokes over Gansey’s thigh and his fingers curl and uncurl in tiny increments, which makes it impossible for Gansey to ignore. He can swear that he feels his heartbeat in his leg, centimeters away from where Henry’s fingertips settle. When their teacher turns around again, drawing arrows between government branches, Henry pulls a little bit and Gansey’s thighs part a few inches, almost without his brain registering it. He looks at Henry again out of the corner of his eye, and Henry has a tiny hint of a grin on his face, well hidden to everyone who doesn’t know him. He also has a slight flush across his cheeks, and Gansey wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a matching one on his own.

The next few minutes pass agonizingly. Gansey isn’t paying the slightest bit of attention now, and he’s baffled how Henry can keep taking notes like this. Henry’s hand has been slipping higher and higher, tracing the seam of Gansey’s pants and kneading his leg gently. His hand is nearly at Gansey’s hip now, and his pinky is just touching the now noticeable bulge in Gansey’s pants that has been pressing against the front of his uniform slacks more and more insistently. Henry taps Gansey’s thigh with one finger and Gansey starts and looks down to see another note sitting in front of him.

_I’ll stop if you want_

Gansey looks down on it, and then at Henry, and then, through some new madness all his own, shakes his head.

Henry grins at him, a real grin that’s gone as soon as it was there, but it makes Gansey’s chest feel warm for the second before Henry’s hand shifts up those final few inches and cups Gansey’s half-hard cock. Gansey inhales sharply through his nose, and he hopes that no one hears, because he has no notes to disguise himself with and no visible reason to be breathing heavily. But Henry’s grinding his palm down rhythmically, rubbing up and down the barest fractions of an inch, and just those tiny touches make heat surge from Gansey’s chest downwards.

He picks up his pen with slightly shaky fingers and writes _why?_ on the slip of paper and nudges it to Henry. Henry glances down at it, writes two words, and slips it back, then curls his fingers definitively around Gansey’s cock and gives it a slow jerk. Gansey grips the edge of the table as pleasure sparks up his spine, and he takes the paper from Henry’s fingers when it’s offered to him.

_want you_

“Christ,” Gansey breathes. He sees Henry smirk a little, but when he looks down, he can tell that Henry isn’t totally unaffected either. He wants to reach over and take Henry in hand, and then feels vaguely shocked at himself for even thinking about doing that in a classroom, and then Henry’s hand is working at his cock and he isn’t thinking about much of anything. His main thoughts are how he’s astonished that no one has noticed yet, not even their teacher, and how Henry’s hands can possibly be this warm.

Everyone stands up around them and Henry snatches his hand back before anyone has the chance to see. Gansey blinks owlishly and looks up at the clock, which tells him that it’s the end of the period and the beginning of lunch. He reaches down for his messenger bag as the rest of the class shuffles for the door and slowly packs up, hoping that his erection will flag a little by the time he’s finished. Henry is doing the same, tucking his notebooks away. The bell rings belatedly, and they can hear the chatter of boys deciding where to go for lunch today, but as Gansey slings his messenger bag over his shoulder and nudges it carefully in front of his hips, the only things he can focus on are Henry and the desire to go somewhere deserted.

“Come with me,” he tells Henry in a low voice, and Henry, to his credit, doesn’t pretend like he doesn’t know what’s going on. He just flashes Gansey a grin and says, “Lead the way,” and Gansey barely refrains from grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the government classroom.

Gansey knows the layout of the school well, having walked so many tours in exchange for staff favors and goodwill, so he marches on through the halls, Henry at his heels, to the faculty area. A couple teachers try to engage him on the way, but Gansey just smiles them off and holds his bag firmly in front of him. Far from flagging, his cock has only gotten harder at the idea of what he’s going to do as soon as he can get Henry alone.

Gansey leads Henry past the staff kitchen and the break room to the bathrooms at the end of the hall. He finds the single stall one, pulls it open, glances around, and then shoves Henry and himself inside and locks the door. He gropes for the lights, and when he finds them and turns them on, Henry is in front of him, pressing into his space, looking him up and down with hungry eyes. Gansey takes a second to appreciate that look, and then he’s grabbing Henry by his sweater and tie and pushing him back against the wall. Henry lets out a low grunt and Gansey crushes their mouths together instantly.

He shrugs off his bag clumsily and kicks it out of the way, not bothering to look where it goes, and then pulls Henry’s bag away too. Henry breaks the kiss for half a second to drop it in the corner but then Gansey’s lips are claiming his again, impatient and insistent. Gansey pulls at Henry’s tie, freeing it from his sweater, and drags Henry away from the wall with it, then pushes him back.

“What was all that?” Gansey asks, and doesn’t give Henry time to answer because he’s biting his way into Henry’s mouth and sucking on his lower lip. He feels Henry shake a little and grab at his sides, then he slides lower to start working at the front of Henry’s pants. Gansey moves back a few inches to give him room as he curls his fingers around Henry’s jaw and brushes their tongues together.

Henry makes quick work of the button and zipper on Gansey’s pants, even without being able to see what his hands are doing, and he immediately reaches into Gansey’s boxers and takes his cock in hand. Gansey hisses out a sharp breath and a low curse, one that he’s been holding onto since Henry first touched his thigh in the middle of class, and pulls back a little to rest his forehead against Henry’s shoulder.

“Christ, Henry,” he murmurs as Henry nudges Gansey’s pants down around his thighs with his forearm. He gives Gansey’s cock a hard jerk that has Gansey’s knees buckling a little and then Gansey is letting go of Henry’s tie to work at Henry’s pants, less coordinated than Henry had done. “What was that about in class?”

“Wanted you,” Henry repeats. “And wanted you to know it.” He gives Gansey a sharp grin. “No time like the present, right, Gansey boy?”

Gansey laughs, a little unsteadily, and then breathes out, “Oh, God,” as Henry pulls him forward with a hand at his hip and his cock rubs up against Henry’s sweater. Henry jerks him off in quick, long strokes, pausing every now and then to lick his palm, and Gansey gets lost for a moment in how good and rough and indecent it feels. Occasionally, he hears voices outside the door as teachers walk by and he tries to look over to make sure the door is locked, but Henry’s claiming his mouth in another kiss and that seems like the much better alternative.

He finally gets enough brain cells together to get Henry’s pants all the way open open and shove them down just enough to free his cock as well. Henry is achingly hard too, and his cock is wet at the tip and twitching as soon as Gansey gets his hand around it. Henry lets out a long, satisfied sigh at the skin contact, and then Gansey curves his hand around the back of Henry’s neck and they’re kissing again, hard and wet and messy. They’re pressed so close together that it’s hard to move their hands, especially with Henry still half in his pants, but Gansey feels so out of his mind right now, so very _aware_ of everything that’s happening, that he can’t even begin to care about it.

Henry pauses a little to ruck up Gansey’s sweater and Gansey allows it for a single second before he decides being pressed against Henry is more important. He plasters himself against Henry, chest to chest, and then ducks down and latches onto Henry’s throat with his teeth. Henry gifts him with a throaty moan that goes up in pitch as Gansey bites down, and then he noses Henry’s collar down an inch or so and bites there too before he starts to suck at Henry’s skin. Henry curses softly and Gansey’s entire body shivers at the sound of it. Henry’s cock arches in his grip and when he starts to jerk Henry off faster, Henry mirrors him, working Gansey as fast as he can in such tight proximity.

Gansey leaves a large, dark bruise on Henry’s neck, right under the collar of his shirt, and then Henry drags him up by the hair to kiss him again. Henry’s panting shallowly, looking as overwhelmed and out of breath as Gansey feels. Gansey is spinning a little, desperation clouding his common sense, and he finds that he doesn’t mind it. Before, he would have been shocked at himself for doing this, but now, the edge of excitement spurs him on, makes him sloppy and clumsy and rock hard, makes Henry fall apart against him in the most beautiful way.

“Why today?” Gansey murmurs against Henry’s lips. “Why not wait ‘til lunch?”

“Didn’t want to wait,” Henry gasps back. He arches up into Gansey’s hand and Gansey thumbs the head of his cock because he knows it’ll earn a good reaction and it does. Henry’s head snaps back, thumping against the wall, and his lips are parted and his eyes are closed and Gansey thinks for a second about dropping to his knees and sucking Henry off until he breaks but he wants to see his face more. Henry is beautiful and messy whenever he comes, thrashing his head to the side and burying his face in Gansey’s pillow and biting his own lower lip pink and swearing up a storm, and Gansey wants to see if he’ll be so unreserved when they’re in the middle of campus. Henry’s already bumped his cock against Gansey’s belly a few times and Gansey can feel the warm, damp, sticky spot on his shirt that Henry’s left behind.

Not that he’s faring much better. Henry has long, deft fingers and knows how to use them well. Every pull along Gansey’s cock has a twist at the end, and every stroke down is aided by the bit of slickness coming from Gansey’s own cock. He can’t stop watching Henry, with his loosened tie and his untucked shirt and his cock straining out from the V of his unzipped pants straight into Gansey’s hand, and wonders how he’ll ever be able to focus on school for the rest of the day.

“Am I gonna hear you?” he breathes against Henry’s mouth. “When you come, when I make you come, how loud will you let yourself be?”

Henry groans, loudly, and possibly exaggeratedly but Gansey doesn’t care because the sound shoots straight down his spine like an electric shock. “Don’t want me to get caught, do you?” he murmurs. His voice trembles.

“I’d get caught too,” Gansey replies. He reaches his other hand down to palm at the head of Henry’s cock as he jerks it near the base and Henry makes a high whining noise and bucks forward.

“Do you want me to be loud?” he asks unsteadily.

“Yeah,” Gansey says, and squeezes Henry’s cock hard. Henry spasms against him, but he grins up at Gansey, eyes alight.

“Make me.”

Gansey raises his eyebrows and laughs and thrusts into Henry’s fist, then bats Henry’s hand away to take them both in his own hand. Henry lets out a shuddery, content sigh, and then Gansey’s arm is pressing across his shoulders, pinning him against the wall as he strokes them both off. Henry arches up against the pressure but Gansey keeps him held down and notes with hazy satisfaction that Henry’s clawing at the wall now, nails looking for purchase on the tile and not finding any. He swallows hard and Gansey follows the line of his throat as it shifts, then ducks down to bite it again. Henry gasps loudly and lifts his chin toward the ceiling, and then his cock throbs noticeably in Gansey’s hand and Gansey looks down just in time to see Henry coming all over the bottom of Gansey’s uniform shirt. Gansey gives him a few more hard strokes and Henry belatedly cries out and his thighs shake hard enough that Gansey has to lean most of his weight on him to keep it up. Henry drops his head forward onto Gansey’s shoulder, panting heavily, and then his hand is curling around Gansey’s hand and moving it faster.

“Henry–” Gansey says, but Henry interrupts.

“Want to see you come,” he says hoarsely. “Come on, Gansey.”

Gansey shudders a little too as Henry’s grip tightens on his hand. Their fingers are a little slicker now with Henry’s come, which makes the drag easier, and Henry’s cock still ruts against his, a little softer now but still very interested. Henry seems a bit oversensitized and keeps making all these soft little noises in the back of his throat, but he urges Gansey on with soft hisses of his name that Gansey has to lean forward to taste. Henry moans into his mouth and then reaches down with his other hand to close his palm around the head of Gansey’s cock.

“Come on,” he repeats. “Come for me?”

“Yeah,” Gansey breathes. “Just–”

Henry tilts his head and brushes his nose against Gansey’s cheek and kisses him chastely, then lets go of Gansey’s cock to cup his balls and press at the skin behind them. Gansey arches into him with a sharp breath and then Henry leans forward and bites Gansey’s lip and Gansey is gone, shaking and panting and coming into Henry’s fist with his free hand balled in Henry’s sweater and his forehead mashed against Henry’s. He makes a low clicky noise in his throat as he swallows and Henry pulls his hand out of Gansey’s pants and wraps his arm around Gansey’s shoulders, pulling them back together. Gansey takes a moment to catch his breath, just breathing in the scent of Henry and sex, and then carefully pulls back, grimacing at the come that’s splattered across his shirt.

“Whoops,” Henry says. His cock has flopped down, softening up enough to do so, but he ignores it as it goes to the sink and washes off his hands. “My bad.”

“You don’t seem too repentant about it,” Gansey notes. He gets some paper towels and does his best to wipe the mess off. Fortunately, both the shirt and the come are white, but there’s a definite and obvious wet spot that Gansey doesn’t really want to think about.

“At least it’s your shirt and not your sweater,” Henry says. He dries his hands off, then reaches over to tuck Gansey’s cock back into his pants. Gansey watches him with a raised eyebrow as Henry zips up his zipper and buttons his button and tucks his shirt in, then smooths the sweater down over it. “There. Immaculate as ever.”

“As ever,” Gansey echoes sardonically. Henry flashes him another grin, then goes to the mirror to start fixing his tie. He spikes up his hair and adjusts his collar and smooths everything down, then finally tucks his own cock back into his pants and zips his fly back up. Gansey watches him put his public image back together, then shuffles up behind him and loops his arms around Henry’s belly. He hooks his chin over Henry’s shoulder and reaches up Henry’s chest to prod at the edge of the bruise that sticks out over Henry’s shirt. Henry’s eyelashes flutter a little. “Hey. Come over after school.”

“How come?” Henry asks, even though they both know why.

“I didn’t make you very loud just then,” Gansey says. “I’d like to rectify that.”

“Well,” Henry says. Gansey notes with pride that he still looks a little flushed. “Far be it from me to deny you the opportunity.”

“I’ll meet you after class, then,” Gansey says. He kisses the corner of Henry’s jaw, gives himself one more once-over in the mirror, then turns and grabs his bag and slips out of the bathroom, leaving Henry smirking to himself in the bathroom mirror.


End file.
